


It's the End of the World As We Know It

by janiejanine



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Mass Effect
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3838954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janiejanine/pseuds/janiejanine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scenes from Cullen and Kaidan's long-standing friendship. (Prompted ficlets, set in the Mass Effect universe.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. London, 2187

For the past hour, Cullen had been sitting in the same spot, fighting off an impatient twitch. The FOB was close enough to hear the fighting in the streets, the gunshots echoing from the tall buildings, and always the Reapers, a low, heavy roar that went down to his bones.

Everything that had to be done was done. Nothing to do now but wait, and try not to notice the steady stream of dead and injured coming through the gates.

It was too long, and not long enough. Too much wait time, and fear started turning to dread.  _Fear_ was good. It kept you on your toes. If you weren’t at least a little bit scared, it was too easy to get reckless.  _Dread_ was paralyzing.

He was, strangely, a lot less worried than he’d thought he would be. He’d prepared as best he could, and the rest was in God’s hands.

Everybody had to go someday. That day would probably be today. And if it was, there was a good chance he’d end up as ground troops for the enemy. Of all the fucked-up things he’d seen from the Reapers, that was by far the worst. Didn’t matter if they were already dead—that kind of desecration was sickening. Which was the point, he supposed.

The world would go on whether he was in it or not. All they could do now was take as many of those monsters with them as they could.

"Hey."

He looked up and smiled as Kaidan dropped into the seat next to him.

"I’m starting to think you’re a bad omen," Cullen said. Wherever Kaidan went, disaster seemed to follow. Every one of his sporadic emails hinted at some fresh catastrophe. The last time he’d seen him, Cerberus had assaulted the Citadel, and those weren’t even the worst circumstances in which they’d found each other.

“I might agree with you.” Kaidan smiled ruefully. “At least it’s never boring.”

“Boring might not be so bad.”

"You sure? Remember Proteus?"

He did. Endless ocean, unbelievable humidity, and countless hours spent watching scientists tinker with tiny instruments. He grimaced. “I think I’d rather be shot at.”

“That’s convenient.”

Cullen snorted a laugh, and a little bit of tension bled out of the air.

Kaidan nudged him. “This is a good plan. This’ll work.”

He was obviously shooting for positivity, but fell considerably short of the mark. Cullen raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, it’s not the  _best_ plan,” Kaidan admitted. “But we’re running out of options.”

“I know.” There didn’t seem to be much else to say.

Kaidan clapped him on the shoulder. “Take care of yourself,” he said.

"You, too. You still owe me a drink."

"Yeah. I hope it’ll be better than the last one."

Cullen concurred. He’d done his best, but there were no good answers to  _my girlfriend came back from the dead_. They’d spent most of that time putting away the good stuff in companionable silence.

Of course, now that he thought about it, as last drinks went, it could have been worse.

He let out a breath as he watched Kaidan make his way across the ruined street. People disappeared all the time. Getting to say goodbye was a nice change.

They were screwed. But maybe, just this once, they might get lucky.


	2. Citadel, 2185

After Horizon, as soon as he landed on the Citadel, Kaidan headed straight for the bar. He hadn’t expected Cullen to be around–the odds of them being in the same place at the same time were slim these days–but he’d gotten lucky. It was about time something went right.

Cullen had taken one look at his face and ordered a full bottle. They got through half of it before Kaidan told him anything. He had to work up to it; it was a deep wound that had finally been healing, and seeing her had ripped it open again, and his system was still in shock. The snatched-from-the-jaws-of-death adrenaline rush hadn’t helped.

The sameness of it all was what got him. Much as he’d tried to hang on to them, since she’d been gone, the little details–the sound of her voice, the exact color of her eyes–had been fading away. Now they’d all come back in a rush. She’d even smelled the same. It had been like getting hit with a shovel.

“I just don’t know,” he said, for what felt like the hundredth time. That was the hardest part–the uncertainty. If what the facts were adding up to was true, then trusting her as he had had been a  _massive_ error in judgment, and that was a feeling he was no longer used to. “What do you think?”

“Are you sure you want my advice? I’m even worse at this than you are,” Cullen said.

“Thanks,” Kaidan said dryly. He supposed, technically, it was  _possible_ to be worse at relationships than he was, although it would take a hell of an effort.

“I think this might be the strangest thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“Really? What about the thing with the hanar?”

Cullen shot him a dark look. “You said you’d never bring that up again.”

“ _You_ brought it up.”

“I didn’t…” Cullen shook his head. “Never mind. Getting back to the point, it’s hard to say without knowing more details.”

Kaidan drummed his fingers on the table. “She said Cerberus rebuilt her, but that’s just not possible.” It occurred to him, belatedly, that she could have told a better lie. It wasn’t like her to make such a mistake–unless she’d known he’d realize that, and done it on purpose to make it more believable. Of course, if she knew him that well, she should also have known he’d see through it eventually.

He dropped his head into his hands. It was too late in the evening for this.

Cullen topped off their glasses and nudged one toward him. “So you’re saying the  _most plausible_  explanation is that she faked her own death and became a terrorist?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous.” He was suddenly, overwhelmingly glad that Cullen was there. His steady common sense was a rock to cling to when the whole world had been knocked off-kilter. “I don’t know what else to think.”

“Let me ask you this, then. Everything you just told me–does that sound like the person you knew?”

He thought about that for several long moments, staring into the bottom of his glass. “No,” he said, finally.

Cullen made an expansive gesture. “There you go.”

“It’s not that easy,” Kaidan protested.

“Trust your gut.”

“Sure. Trust your gut. Jump off a cliff. Punch a bear. Why not?” His voice had a slightly hysterical edge to it.

“I’m not telling you to track her down and propose. I’m just saying,  _if_ you asked her for the truth, would she tell you? If not, you can stop worrying about it, and we’ll drink until you do. But if you think she would, and you want to hear it, then ask.”

The truth was, considering how badly everything else had gone, he didn’t have much to lose. Communication–at least, the non-work-related kind–had never been his strong suit. It hadn’t been hers, either.

If he didn’t do this, there was a very real possibility he’d never see her again. He already knew what that was like. Last time, he hadn’t had a choice.

It didn’t have to be more than it was–a simple request for information.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. Just…just don’t let me do it until I’m sobered up.”

“Done,” Cullen said, and they knocked back another shot.


	3. Citadel, 2171

_Cullen agreed to the Citadel trip for two reasons._

_First, after eighteen years of being responsible, and with many more to come, he thought maybe he should do at least one stupid thing before he enlisted and his time officially belonged to the Alliance._

_Second, Kaidan had had the Look, the one that meant he had to get out of there right now whether he had company or not, and Cullen knew it might be better if he was there to talk him out of any unfortunate ideas. Kaidan had never told him exactly what had happened while he was gone, but he'd come back with a head full of static and a reckless streak and that was all Cullen needed to know._

_His misgivings intensified as they arrived and wound their way through a maze of blind corners and dead ends. This part of Zakera Ward was overflowing with people, buildings leaning into each other with structures haphazardly added on as the population grew, turning the neat grid of streets into a warren of twisting alleyways._

_Their destination was a bar exactly like the dozen other bars that dotted the neighborhood. They popped up like mushrooms after a rain; every time one was shut down, two new ones appeared in its place._

_The door stuck. In hindsight, it may have been an omen._

_They were there for about five minutes before they got separated. The interior was dark, a fog of smoke hung in the air, and at the bar there was a girl._

_Everything about her was calculated to catch the eye. She was beautiful, blue, lithe and luminous. She shone against that grim backdrop like a beacon in a storm. One look, and Kaidan was smitten._

* * *

"I was not _smitten_ ," Kaidan interrupted.

Cullen’s brows rose so high they almost lifted off his forehead. “You should have seen the look on your face.”

“I don’t think--”

“Please,” Shepard said. “ _I_ know you were smitten, and I wasn’t even there."

"Just let me tell it," Kaidan said.

* * *

_Her name was Sura. That was about all he got before the noise of the room, several oddly-colored drinks in rapid succession, and the brush of her lips across the top of his ear rendered him incapable of focusing on such petty things as words. She could have been telling him the details of her last trip to the dentist and he would have been enthralled._

_She ran her fingers up his arm, leaving a pleasant, tingly trail, and murmured several sentences, out of which he caught only the word “wait”._

_He admired the sway of her hips as she disappeared into the haze. He’d chosen the Citadel more or less at random; it didn’t matter where he went, as long as it wasn’t home. In this moment, he almost believed in fate._

_His omni-tool pinged, and a warning message flashed. Bright orange letters informed him that his bank account, which had previously been, if not robust, at least healthy, was empty. Shit, shit, shit._

_She was nowhere to be found. He scanned the room, but he couldn’t yet see the table where Cullen, the world’s worst card player, was brutally losing._

* * *

“I think _worst_ is a bit harsh,” Cullen said, stung.

“I don’t know about that. You have a tell,” Kaidan said.

“I don’t! Do I?”

“You rub your neck when you get nervous. Or if you’re lying.”

Cullen’s hand was halfway to his neck. He hastily put it back down.

“Told you,” Kaidan said smugly.

“You do that, too,” Cullen pointed out.

Kaidan looked to Shepard for confirmation. She nodded. “Son of a bitch,” he said.

“So I may have competition for _worst_ …”

“Fine,” Kaidan said with a dismissive gesture. “Have it your way.”

* * *

_Meanwhile, Cullen was occasionally winning, but mostly brutally losing._

_He wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten pulled into a game with a table full of large, silent turians, but now that he was here, there was no way he was going to let himself get beaten. Every losing hand strengthened his resolve until he was ready to start betting body parts to stay in._

_Though he fought valiantly, it wasn’t long before his well ran dry. He’d gone into this thinking they’d have to pry victory from his cold, dead hands--but now that it came down to it, he knew they’d have no problem doing exactly that. He wondered briefly how long it would take to sell a kidney. Of course, these guys would probably just take it._

_This had been a terrible idea, he’d known the whole time it was a terrible idea, and the one goddamn time he’d gone against his better judgment, it had come back to bite him, hard. He should have expected this._

_Before his agitated brain could settle on a way out, rescue arrived in the form of a massive bouncer, who clamped onto his arm with a grip that could crush a steel pipe. Of course--the bartender would’ve been alerted the minute his funds dipped below his tab._

_“_ Out _,” the bouncer said. He was a man of few words, but excellent timing._

 _The biggest of the turians unfolded himself from his chair and stood, stretching to his full height. His glare, more eloquent than words, said_ not until I get paid _._

_Cullen made a noise of protest, and instantly regretted it. The turian’s gaze focused on him, becoming, if possible, even more deadly, and his fist clenched._

_Cullen may not have spent a lot of time around aliens, but some body language was universal. He did the only thing one could do when faced with an angry, seven-foot-tall, metallic bird: he ducked._

_The bouncer took the blow full in the face._

_He and the turian stared at each other like surprised redwoods for a split second before he dropped Cullen’s arm and lunged. The rest of the table leapt up in defense, drawing more bar staff out of the shadows._

_Cullen was no longer outnumbered. He pulled back and took a swing, one that would take the turian out of the running. At least, that was the idea. Alcohol, surprisingly, did not do one's aim any favors._

_A flailing arm knocked him off-balance, and his face hit the edge of the bar with a thump. He slumped to the floor and ran his tongue over his teeth to make sure they were still there._

_They were, but the pain and the strong taste of copper told him he’d probably gotten one hell of a laceration._

_The floor was comfortable. He stayed there._

* * *

“That’s one,” Shepard said, turning to Kaidan. “What about you?”

He hesitated. “It’s embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than what you already told me?”

“Well…”

"I _am_ a Spectre. I could just find out."

True. Somehow, she’d find a way. Kaidan made a disgruntled noise and continued.

* * *

 _Once the initial panic passed, he realized what must have happened; Sura had been doing_ something _with her other hand, but at the time, he hadn’t much cared what. He would have been completely oblivious while she cleaned him out. An easy mark. And now she was gone._

_He scanned the room. Maybe he’d get lucky--finally--and she’d still be there._

_A smudge of blue caught his eye, heading furtively for the exit, and he chased it. She’d almost made it out._

_He hadn’t used his biotics for fear of attracting too much attention, but she had no such concerns. He caught her by the wrist and she spun, transferring all her momentum, from her hips upward, to her right arm._

_In his lifetime, he'd experienced quite a few different varieties of pain, but getting punched in the mouth with a fistful of rings was new. She dove through the door and disappeared down the alley, but she didn’t have to worry about being followed. He was too busy spitting blood._

_Eventually, the throbbing ebbed enough for him to look around._

_It was chaos. One by one, the others were drawn into the fray, the tables emptying inward like falling dominoes._

Fuck that _, he thought. He edged along the perimeter with a vague idea of finding the door._

_A glass flew over his head and shattered against the wall. As he dropped, covering his head, he spotted someone else crouched on the floor a few feet away. Cullen._

_Each blinked at the other’s battered face and said, “What happened to_ you? _”_

* * *

“Huh,” Shepard said. “How did you get out?”

Kaidan shrugged. “Everyone was pretty busy, and they weren’t paying attention to us anymore, so we just… left.”

"So you never even paid your tab?"

They exchanged a guilty look. "I always felt bad about that," Kaidan said.

“Of course you did,” Shepard said, no longer bothering to hide her amusement.

“So, we told you. Next round’s yours.”

“Maybe I should cut you off. Wouldn’t want you two starting another fight.” She snorted with laughter.

“It was an accident!” Kaidan protested.

“You know that’s worse, right?”

“Are you saying you have _no_ embarrassing scars?” Cullen asked.

“I got mine fighting bad guys,” Shepard said.

“And before that?”

“Sports injuries,” she said, with a hint of defensiveness.

“Sure.” The skepticism in his voice was almost tangible.

She leaned forward. “Okay. What’s it worth to you?”

“Well, since we sold ourselves pretty fucking cheap… drink?”

“ _Two_ drinks.”

“Agreed.”

They sealed the deal with a solemn handshake. Shepard flagged down a waiter and settled in to tell a story.


End file.
